


and i built an empire

by ellipsesificate



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Allusions to Multigenerational Trauma and Cycles of Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationship, Catra and Scorpia Stay in the Crimson Wastes, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-15 00:18:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20609756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellipsesificate/pseuds/ellipsesificate
Summary: They stay in the Crimson Wastes. It's not quite the happily ever after Scorpia had imagined.





	and i built an empire

“I’m thinking we go for Mosquitor’s territory next—wanna bet if he’ll put up a fight, or just start crying on the spot?”

Catra looked good on a throne, even a shoddy one made out of scrap metal and ancient bones. She’s mastered the kind of lounge that lets stretch her legs, and her tail does this adorable little twitch even as she sneers down at some unlucky minion, and Scorpia is helpless to do anything but admire the way the sun peeking through the slats of the roof help her glow like a hug at sunrise. No one would even realise the hours Scorpia spent brushing sand from Catra’s fur.

A snap of fingers in front of her face forced Scorpia back into the present. Also, it maybe startled her into snapping the pipe in her claws in half.

“Back with me?” Catra asked dryly, tilting her head in amusement as Scorpia fumbled the broken pipe, embarrassed, before tossing the pieces at a passing mook. Cackling as the mook squawked in surprise, Catra nudged Scorpia’s thigh with her foot. “Trying to knock the place down before I can really build it up, huh?”

“Ha—what, no! No, wildcat, I’m sorry I was just—”

Catra laughed again, lighter this time. “Relax, it’s fine. Don’t know why you’re working anyways, we have minions for that now.”

Abashed, Scorpia rubbed the back of her neck. Around them, the Waste denizens scurried with their tools and parts and argued over what walls needed to be knocked down and which needed to be shored up. Tung Lashor's old haunt might have served him well, but Catra had more sophisticated sensibilities. “Oh you know—either someone isn’t tall enough to reach something, or strong enough to move something, guess I just hit that nice sweet spot y’know?”

“I bet you do,” Catra purred, and when she laughed at Scorpia choking on air it sounded just as sweet as every other time. She’d been laughing a lot like that lately. “Sorry, but you set that up too perfectly.”

“Sorry,” Scorpia squeaked.

If Catra planned on teasing her any further, it was cut off by a cacophony of clattering metal and yelling. Instantaneously, Catra’s easy-going demeanor shifted into something darker—a smile of fangs. She’d been smiling like this a lot too.

With fearsome grace, Catra twisted out of her throne and stalked towards the source of the noise in the back, where frantically whispering lackeys surrounded the culprit. “Which one of you idiots is breaking my new base, huh?!”

The huddle dispersed immediately, a burst of scrambling limbs and guilty glances at the lone, shaking lizard-folk crouched over the toppled metal sheets and rods meant to decorate the north wall. Lispra, she was pretty sure someone had called her when Scorpia had been balancing a beam for them earlier.

“Ss-sssorry,” she warbled, eyes darting back and forth as Catra circles her. The tap of Catra’s claws against the floor is measured, methodical. “I, um, I’ll get this cleaned up, jussst got dissstracted—”

“Distracted, huh?” Stopping just behind the Lispra’s shoulder, Catra leaned over, forcing the lizard-folk to look upwards to the glint of sharp teeth and sharper eyes. “See, to me, that sounds a lot like slacking off. You weren’t slacking off, were you?”

“Uh, wait!” From the crowd, Kyle Two stumbles forward, a shaky grin stretching her narrow face. “Sorry, um, she _ was _working y’know. Someone just knocked into her, honest mistake. We’ll get it all cleaned up, boss!”

Raising an eyebrow, Catra considered Kyle in silence, still bent over the shivering lizard. At her thigh, her claws tapped-tapped-tapped, one after the other. The quiet simmered, muted and waiting, as the crowd held their breath and Kyle’s smile strained.

And then Catra laughed, clapping a hand onto the Lispra’s shoulder and giving her a friendly shake. “Hey, no harm no foul. Just makes sure it all gets cleaned up, got it?”

Lispra gaped at her, but Kyle rushed forward to prod her out of Catra’s grasp. “Got it, boss! Don’t worry, we’ll have everything fixed up before you know it.”

“I sure hope you do!” Catra said brightly, striding past them with a cheery wave, back to where Scorpia stood frozen by the throne. “We’re gonna go stretch our legs. Have fun! Except seriously, make sure this is all fixed up by the time we get back. Ciao!”

It isn’t until they were outside and away from all the fearful scuttering that Scorpia spoke. “You know, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Hm?” Turning to look at her, Catra squinted against the sun. Her tail flicked back and forth lazily, content in her territory. “Didn’t have to do what?”

Feebly, Scorpia gestured back at the base. “All of that! None of them were doing anything wrong, that kid just dropped something. You didn’t have to, you know, freak her out like that.”

Something flickered across Catra’s face, and Scorpia’s heart leapt with the hope that she’d agree, go back and apologize. But just as quick as it appeared, it smoothed away into that confident expression she loves so much. “I wasn’t actually going to do anything. Just had to remind them who’s the big boss around these parts—you have to scare them a bit sometimes, so they don’t try anything down the line.”

When Catra moved forward again, impulse led Scorpia’s claw to reach out, touching her wrist lightly. Catra’s glare was sudden, piercing, and Scorpia had to choke up her next words. “It’s just...is it really necessary? It just seems kind of. Mean.”

Face softening with a sigh, Catra took her hand from Scorpia’s. “Listen, you’re at the top of the food chain now. Try acting like it. No one back there is our friend, they’re just opportunistic lackeys who’ll take advantage of any weakness. I know the type.”

Before that had a chance to sink in, before she could continue arguing, Catra pulled away, advancing with a straight, proud back.

“C’mon, we’re burning daylight! I want to scope out more of the area, don’t trust any of those idiots to remember their north from their south when we move in on Mosquitor.”

* * *

Everything Scorpia knew about the origins of the Horde, she learned in Force Captain orientation.

Miles away from what could have been her domain, a lone ship fell from the sky. A lone survivor crawled out. Ruined and broken as it was, the technology of the ship was beyond even the most vivid of Etherian imaginations, and for a kingdom sorely lacking in reliable trade relationships there’s no debate as to whether or not they should offer their hospitality in return for the survivor’s tools.

The survivor’s prestige and influence grew astronomically, and it wasn’t long before technological might left the Fright Zone where a kingdom once stood. A new realm cold with shadows and smog.

It was her and two others at the orientation. Scorpia can’t remember their names, just that one was later lost to the Whispering Woods and the other to a severe lack of safety railing, but she chatted with them regardless. It wasn’t a particularly stimulating conversation when she was the only one talking, but she’s used to that.

When they are ushered into the Inner Sanctum, she couldn’t even think of talking. It was only for a few minutes at the tail end of the orientation, just a formality after all the talk of procedure and training are done with, but it was long enough to feel like the walls have closed in.

"You have all been selected for the Force Captain based off your past performances and the recommendation of your superiors." Lord Hordak’s voice carried, level and sure even as he prowled between the lights of the vitrines, the shadows they cast. From the corner of her eye, she tracked the glow of his gaze until he circled around behind them. "As Force Captains, I expect you to not only bring the Horde to greater heights of victory against the tyranny of the Princesses, but to set an example for your fellow soldier. The standards of the Horde were crafted and perfected long before you can possibly begin to comprehend.”

It was cool in the Sanctum, but Scorpia knows that didn’t justify her full-body shiver when Lord Hordak finally stepped before them, his stare sweeping through them. His voice echoed in the Sanctum, with orientations and speeches past.

“Uphold the eminency of the Horde Empire, and you will have the glory befitting your station. Failure to do so is out of the question, but I can assure you it is well-deserved should the occasion arise.”

Scorpia wanted to turn to her fellow Force Captains and check their reactions, because she wasn’t entirely sure if she’s supposed to look excited or terrified right now, but she was even less sure if looking away from Hordak counts as a failure. She stayed put as the silence drew taut.

Finally, Lord Hordak flicked his hand. “Dismissed.”

Immediately, Grizzlor rounded the three of them up and led them out of the room, as Hordak retreated to his throne. “Gives the same speech every orientation,” he explains once the doors slide shut, “probably pretty rote for him with how many captains we go through. Don’t worry too much—most people who mess up don’t make it before he can cart them off to Beast Island.”

* * *

“Who’s the strongest in the Crimson Waste?!”

Scorpia no longer had to lead the cheers of, “Catra! Catra! Catra!” Former followers of Huntara and Tung Lashor leapt and hollered, and Mosquitor’s henchmen echo them gamely as they avoid looking the broken, bleeding pile of chitin and antennae at Catra’s feet. She stands brilliant and bright, even in the growing evening.

And Scorpia’s happy, she really was, but underneath that thrum of elated adrenaline from watching Catra brutalize another opponent is—

She wasn’t sure. A buzz in the air, or maybe that’s just all their newfound insectoid allies. Maybe she was just disappointed that she didn’t get a chance to thrash anyone, do something to impress Catra. Mosquitor had been too quick to surrender.

“Are you all ready to take what you want?”Catra called out at the first lull, “Ready to win the war?!”

It whipped everyone up into a frenzy, and no one pointed out that there hadn’t been any real war in the Crimson Wastes. Scorpia wondered if there would ever be a good time to bring that up.

“We’re all here because we had nothing to lose, right? So why not—”

Catra didn’t get a chance to finish her big speech when a spear grazed her cheek and through her tangled hair. The buzz grew louder, and against the night they saw flitting silhouettes closing in.

Retaliation was slow, despite how Catra and Scorpia snapped out orders, slow enough that a few of their would-be soldiers were speared through, but eventually flaming arrows arched through the air towards their attackers. Enough hit their mark to momentarily light up the sky before their victims fell screaming, and it was enough to let them keep hitting targets.

One unlucky insurgent swept too close, and Catra’s whip snared him around the mandible and dragged him into her claws. Another tried to use her distraction for a divebomb, only for his neck to fall into Scorpia’s claw. “I left lookouts!” Catra growled, “why the hell didn’t they warn us that Mosquitor had another crew coming in?!”

Around them, their fighters desperately tried to make every arrow count or pick up the fallen spears to fling them back at the enemy. Scattered among them are the squad Mosquitor had brought with him to this turf war, either trying to flee back to their gang or lingering to see who would win.

By the time their lookout appeared panting over the sand dunes, Catra was ripping out the throat of the last of the renegades. Her hand was bloody, all the way up to the elbow, and already smeared with sand. It would be terrible to brush out.

“Catra, Catra,” the lookout cried, and Scorpia’s heart clenched as Lispra tripped into the firelight. Ruffled and filthy from the fight at her side, Kyle flinched. “I-I...sssorry, they were ssso fas-st, couldn’t…”

She stuttered into silence when Catra turned. There’s a rip along the arm of the jacket she had taken from the bar, and her eyes were wide, pupils slitted. “You couldn’t, huh? Couldn’t what? Couldn’t help but try to screw all of us over?”

“Catra,” Scorpia said, reaching out for Catra’s hand as she moved past her. And for a moment she thought maybe Catra hesitated, shuddering at her touch, maybe her snarl broke. But then her back was straight, and brittle, and she wouldn’t stop at Scorpia’s weak plea. 

Instead she stooped down in front of Lispra. Scorpia couldn’t see anything, not Catra’s face or the poor soul’s. So Scorpia didn’t press forward.

“If you run away fast enough, you might be able to find another clan dumb enough to take you in,” Catra murmured, just loud enough for her voice to carry through the night air. No more buzzing in the air could have drowned her out. “See how long it takes before I bring them down too. And maybe you can keep running—and if you’re _ really _lucky, you’ll die of exhaustion before I can catch up.”

A moment, and then Lispra threw herself into the sand, blubbering and shrieking. “I-I, no! I’m sssorry, they were too fassst, had no way t-to catch up, or send message…!”

“So you couldn’t improvise?” Catra said, drawing back up to her full height with an unimpressed sigh. And now she could see Lispra’s face, terrified and whimpering, and Scorpia thought, _ I could stop this _. “See, now you’re even more useless to me. You’re definitely better off as sandworm food.”

“I...I can’t…not by _ myself… _ ” Desperate, the lizard-folk glanced at the faces in the crowd, and Scorpia looked with her, because someone else had to think that this wasn’t necessary, that they could just talk to Catra and sort out the misunderstanding. Instead, everyone turned away from the sorry sight. Inadvertently she caught Kyle’s eye—she shrugged, and looked down. “Not by myself, not in the Crimssson Wastesss, I’ll do _ better… _”

“Get out of here, before I decide you’re not worth any luck at all.”

Lispra looked up at Catra’s cold countenance, one last search for pity, before she turned and scrambled away.

* * *

Lispra wouldn’t be the last that Catra exiled, though it was a rare enough punishment that it felt raw each time. The Catra that she remembered brooding in her cell, calling out Hordak to his face, felt so far away, even as she smiled and laughed and let Scorpia hold her hand.

Scorpia had never thought too hard about where that ship came from and how the Fright Zone sprawled from it, about what Hordak dragged with him when he fell into their world. Something grand and terrible enough for him to uphold its culture and systems, even when so far away. 

In the suffocating sands of the Crimson Wastes outside their lair, with Catra slumbering peacefully by her side in the sun, Scorpia closed her eyes to see scores of fleeing shadows begging for mercy, trapped in the shadow of a fallen ship.


End file.
